In the Eyes of the Beholder
by Demosthenes23
Summary: George and Miss Hamilton's encounters in Murdoch in Ragtime from both of their perspectives.
1. Chapter 1

"Constable Crabtree," said a familiar whiny upper crust British accent. George groaned internally before engaging with the enemy.

"Ah Miss Hamilton," he said, putting down the fountain pen (belonging to Henry) he was using to unjam his typewriter with. "What a...surprise." It wasn't really. This was the eighth time she had been in here since the traumatizing nudist affair. Eight times! How many qualms could a single woman have? And why were they always directed towards him?

"Can I help you?" he continued, desperately wishing the answer was no.

"I certainly hope so," she said very seriously. "The constabulary must shut that place down immediately."

Based on past experience he knew this could take awhile so he propped his head up with a hand, making sure to cover his mouth as well in case he had the urge to laugh, something he very nearly did the last time she had bothered him, complaining about a male neighbour who had forgotten to close the curtain before undressing, demanding he be arrested for ludeness.

This manoeuvre was doubly effective in removing the temptation to use said hand to strangle her with in case he refused to look into whatever ridiculous issue she had this time and wouldn't leave the station house. There weren't many people who had this effect on him but she was one of them.

"What place is this?"

_A church with too boisterous singers?_

He stifled a smirk as best he could.

"They call it The Blind Pig."

At least it wasn't called The Dead Pig. To this day he occasionally had nightmares about the poor soulless pig he shot while wearing a dress. The lads _still _gave him trouble over that! And his nakedness too! Wasn't the grace period for those...unfortunate events long gone by now?

_ Speaking of Grace, I should visit with Emily soon...it's been awhile_...

_ Focus George!_

"But a den of inequity is what it is!"

_Well, now,_ thought George excitedly, _things are starting to get interesting_!

"They play the devil's music. And couples dance in an unseemly manner."

_As in they are within ten feet of each other?_ Again, he had to bite his tongue to keep himself composed and orderly.

"Unseemly?" he choked out.

"I haven't seen it with my own eyes thank the Lord but I have it on good report that men and women are...touching in public."

Simultaneously doing his best not to laugh and groan he said, "Miss Hamilton, it's _dancing_, there's going to be some degree of-

"But it's the _way_ they do it," she said shortly, as if that made everything clear as day.

There was no use arguing with her any further. Once her mind was made up, there was no changing it. She was like a bloodhound with the scent of a killer; she would chase the wrongdoer to the ends of the earth...to Mars even.

He didn't care what the inspector said, George was quite confident there _was_ indeed a Martian Jesus and he would very much like to meet him one day.

_Focus George!_

"I see," he said, unable to release a sigh of resignation, knowing he was ensnared once more in her tedious traps.

"I hardly dare imagine what else goes on in that place!" Emily showed up at this point and he did his best not to lock eyes with her. He knew that if he did, she would probably make him laugh and he wouldn't be able to stop. His eyes burned terribly as he tried to keep them focused on Miss Hamilton. "Licentious music breeds all manner of vice! It must be stopped before the whole cities infected!"

The zombie army they dealt with a few months back instantly popped into his mind, unnerving him greatly. Somehow he would rather deal with those unfortunate souls again than with Miss Hamilton for a moment longer. Whenever her spirits were raised, so too was her irritating voice. Already he was on the verge of a crippling headache.

"Well, I will consult with the inspector," he said with what he hoped was a note of finality.

"Please do that constable."


	2. Chapter 2

Being well acquainted with his schedule, and general whereabouts at all times, she was quite confident that George was currently in the constabulary. Sure enough he was there at his desk, fiddling with his typewriter.

"Constable Crabtree," she said cheerily as she approached.

She was quite pleased when he immediately put down his pen and focused all his attention on her. "Ah Miss Hamilton," he said with a smile, looking delighted to see her. "What a...surprise. Can I help you?"

_You can do more than that! You can..._

_ Focus Jean!_

"I certainly hope so. The constabulary must shut that place down immediately."

In a very thoughtful and touching gesture he propped his head up in such a way as to make sure he could continue to give her his undivided attention. When he stared at her like that, she found it hard to breathe. There was no one else in the city who captivated her quite like he did; no one else who shared her passion for justice and truth and an end to hypocrisy. That is why she found it so difficult to stay away from him for any real length of time and why she was forced to come up with increasingly ridiculous reasons to visit him. In fact, the last time she had completely made up the story about her naked neighbour; the inspiration coming from their first encounter, in which she learned that George himself had been without clothes on for a time.

The thought very nearly made her blush and she restrained herself from glancing down at his body...his no doubt sublime, Adonis-like body.

_Focus Jean!_

"What place is this?" he asked conversationally.

"They call it The Blind Pig. But a den of inequity is what it is! They play the devil's music. And couples dance in an unseemly manner."

Jean was thrilled to note his increasingly eager demeanour. It was quite clear to her that he was looking forward to taking down the heathens as much as she was.

"Unseemly?"

"I haven't seen it with my own eyes thank the Lord but I have it on good report that men and women are," -she found it quite impossible to keep eye contact with him, the beginnings of a flush nipping at her porcelain earlobes- "touching in public."

Jean felt terribly for him, forcing his angelic ears to hear such unsettling tales.

"Miss Hamilton, it's _dancing_, there's going to be some degree of-

"But it's the _way_ they do it," she said in consternation, disbelieving that he wouldn't simply take her word as the absolute truth by now. After all they had been through together, all the miscreants they had set on a path of righteousness, how could he still question her judgement?

"I see," he said sadly, clearly beginning to realize the gravity of the situation.

It pained her to see him so defeated so she felt compelled to rally him to greater heights and give him the strength to deal with such infamy!

"I hardly dare imagine what else goes on in that place!"

Indeed she had on more than one occasion, getting herself into all of a dither each time, all the more so as George was always the centre of the...erotic mischief.

"Licentious music breeds all manner of vice! It must be stopped before the whole cities infected!"

_There_, she thought happily, _that should be sufficient enough to raise his spirits._

Unfortunately her words seemed to have the opposite effect on the constable. Her secret love looked so devastated by this declaration that she desperately wanted to hold him close and tell him everything would be just fine. As long as they stuck together, they would always come out on top. Of that she had no doubt.

"Well, I will consult with the inspector," he said so solemnly that she knew this disturbing case was now in good hands...absolutely divine hands; they were heavenly and she anxiously awaited the day he would declare his undying love for her and caress her face...

_Focus Jean! _

"Please do that constable."

Jean was rather peeved to find _her_ standing right behind them and with some difficulty she marched past the doctor- who did she think she was?- all the while using the utmost restraint to not throw a dark look or two her way.


	3. Chapter 3

Due to her vast information network, in which she acquired all manner of disturbing reports, Jean was well aware of the fact that George would be returning to the station house soon. With this precious knowledge in mind, she promptly took off for the precinct and stationed herself directly within the main entrance, and then with some difficulty composed her sensitive nerves. The opportunity to be in his presence twice in one day was quite unheard of and had rattled her greatly. Pretending to read the newspaper helped slightly in this endeavour in that it gave her something else to focus on. However, her hands still trembled with anticipation.

Only about a minute later George appeared before her and she did her best to restrain the smile that always threatened to expose her true feelings, as if she were wearing nothing more than a negligee. Not that she even owned such a devilish piece of clothing...but if George asked her to wear one, she was quite certain she would bow to his diabolical whim.

As usual George was delighted by her presence and rubbed his tired eyes to view her all the more clearly. For a second such flattery for her face and figure was almost too much to bear but she pulled herself together and engaged with her beloved once more.

"The Jubilee Singers have quite taken leave of their senses!"

"Well, I thought they were very respectable, Miss Hamilton! Your kind of entertainment!"

The first comment shocked her, the second baffled. What did he mean, _your_ kind of entertainment? Weren't they of the same persuasion? Wasn't George a good wholesome individual like herself?

Discrediting his observations as the confused ramblings of a weary constable- she had it on good authority that he had been working non stop for over eight hours straight-she continued their important discussion, only later realizing that despite her best efforts she had _indeed_ spoken her inner, forbidden thoughts aloud with her next comment, something she would forever reprimand herself for in private.

"You cannot rely on anyone these days. Instead of those charming plantation songs, they are now performing acts of lewdness."

"Lewdness!" her charming companion commiserated.

"On stage no less," she admonished, glad that he was coming around to her way of thinking again, the correct and proper way.

They had made their way over to his rather cluttered and unseemly desk but she forgave all that when he politely asked her to take a seat and then eyed her with intense interest.

Jean held out the paper to him. "It's all in there constable, every last frightful detail."

When he reached out to take said paper from her, their fingers briefly brushed against one another and a thrill passed through her. If her hands had been bare, she had little doubt the contact would have caused her to faint.

George's lovely eyes scanned through the document with astonishing speed. Afterwards he glanced up at her and said, "Miss Hamilton, this account does not sound so very frightful-"

What was going on here? Had her beloved taken leave of his senses as well?

"It most certainly _is _frightful! The author clearly states the band was playing more devil music while the negress was dancing in a most infamous manner! Forgoing a corset even!"

"Yes, but wasn't that only as a means to allow full body movement?"

"That is hardly the point constable!" she exclaimed rather shocked by his disregard for propriety. "The only acceptable time to remove such a piece of clothing is in the privacy of one's own home! Not for the entire city to witness! Such behaviour is quite beyond the pale and is a direct affront to the morals of our God fearing citizenry!"

"She won't be undressing in front of everyone, Miss Hamilton...just dancing."

"I shudder to think of such a vulgar display without the proper attire! No doubt she will half expose herself again sending the men into a wild, erotic frenzy! You _must_ do something about this disturbing revelation before it is too late! Before the city is doomed!"

"And what would you have me do?" he asked, sighing.

"Whatever it takes! Arrest them all if necessary!"

He didn't respond and wouldn't even look at her, indeed, she was finding it hard to look at him either, he was infuriating her so.

"Miss Hamilton," he said sighing even louder, "they have paid for the venue and received all the required receipts..and blessings from the owners of the theatre. They are well within their rights to showcase themselves as they please."

With those words, she very nearly slapped him, the veil surrounding her dewy eyes tossed aside, revealing the rarely glimpsed truth: George was just as much a heathen as the rest of them! Of course she had always had some notion of this given his talk with that woman last summer...but she had forgiven such behaviour after learning it had been a necessary evil in order to rid the city of a plague of nudists! Now however, his refusal to take action was very nearly making her cry.

"I warn you, constable," she threatened, standing up, "the good citizens of Toronto will _not _permit this depravity!"

Finally she caught his eye and hoped his unaccounted for, uncooperative nature was at an end. "Yes, of course, Miss Hamilton."

With a curt nod she left, praying that the temperance league would succeed in this most dire of missions. For if they did not, the souls of many would be irrevocably lost, including his own.


End file.
